The Loss
by Dantea Dredkin
Summary: "Did you mourn, Brother?" Loki had asked that. Thor wondered if he knew. If he knew just how sharp his words were, how deep they cut. He'd mourned. God knows he had mourned. A one-shot song-fic about Thor dealing with Loki's suposed death.


**Eeee! I'm going to see the Avengers again Thursday, this time at a drive in theater! They don't have drive-ins in Texas, where I live, but I'm visiting New York for the summer, so drive ins and endless gnats galore!**

**I just know when I go to see the city itself, i'll just be thinking, "Avengers tower, Avengers tower, Avengers tower", even though it's not a real building.**

**Sadness.**

**Sorry for spelling, spell check is on the fritz again. I'll fix it eventully.**

**Enjoy,**

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_"Did you mourn, **Brother**?" Loki had asked bitterly._

Thor watched as his brother, (his once friend, if nothing else), was marched forward in chains, mouth cuffed to stop his treasonous words before they passed his lips. It was a day of celebration, a day of victory. But the man could find no peace in defeating his brother.

Time seemed to slow as he passed, and their eyes met. The tricktser's face, bitter. Thor, impassive. A snear crossed Loki's expression before he was forced onward in his march.

Thor's expression hardened.

_"Did you mourn?"_

He'd mourned. God knows, he had mourned.

_Sick with myself, but I've got no one else,_  
_So I give it to myself, it's the only thing that helps._  
_It's the same thing, this pain thing, that keeps me from sleeping_  
_And screaming that God I must be mother-fucking dreaming._  
_And I can rest in peace and at least cease to be_  
_Cease to see those things in me that make me wanna cease to breathe_  
_And ceased to need and ceased to feed, sickness thats in me_  
_This is all that I can be, I can't breathe as I bleed_

Watching Loki's face as he came to the conclution that this is the only way. Watching the light in his eyes grow dark. That was the worst part. In this one instant, the trickster's mask was down, and you could see every thought that crossed his mind. Every self-doubt. Every little insecurity. You could _see _him want to die.

_"I could have done it, Father!"_ He had shouted up at them, moments before. _"I could have done it for you, for all of you!"_

_"No, Loki." _The Alfather had said, a kind of saddness in his voice he could not understand. _You could have done it for yourself. _The thought went unspoken, but it was there, nevertheless, hanging over their heads. Horrible in it's truefulness.

That was the moment, Thor thought, that Loki really, _truly _came to beleive that no matter what he did, no matter how hard he tried, it would never be good enough. He would never be worthy. He would always need to be more, better, braver, stronger.

Thor saw it in his eyes when it was too much.

And he just...let go.

**"Noooo!"**

_I dont know why I cut myself, God, give me a sign or help._  
_I wont cry, it'll be fine, I'll take my last breath_  
_Push it out my chest 'till theres nothing left._  
_I know that my minds near the end, God, I hurt myself and fell._  
_I wont cry it'll be fine, I'll take my last breath_  
_Push it out my chest, 'till theres nothing left._

There's nothing left.

The food in his mouth was ash. The drink left him wanting. The women were nothing. Jane. His dearest Jane. Loki had threatened to _kill _her in a fit of childish rage. Where had his brother gone? How long had he only been pretending to be happy? Years? Had Thor really missed the darkness growing in his brother for _years? _Surely he hadn't always been like this.

Surley even his brother's sneaky smile couldn't have sheilded his maliciousness sense the begining?

_"I'm sorry for your loss."_ Siff told his mother as he passed them.

Anger. She never even liked his brother.

Regret. She was just trying to be nice.

Dispaire. It was his fault.

_"I hope I can make you proud one day, Father."_

_"That day is today, my son."_

He didn't deserve it. This attention felt bitter, when Loki had worked so hard just be acknolaged as his equal, and had failed.

Numbness.

_Have you ever met a liv__ing legend,_  
_Just a real friend, who planned his end and_  
_Where do I begin?_  
_You said it was pretend._  
_And when the bullet went through,_  
_It took more then just you, it took two._  
_It was you, it was me, and suddenly_  
_How can someone say they're helpless, and then they act so selfish._  
_You put me through hell with this, so fuck you lets just end this._  
_And what about our friendship?_  
_And what you did was senseless._  
_You thought you found an exit?_  
_Like I said, let's end this!_

Let's end this.

He couldn't do it anymore. He was weak. Everyone, his friends, his family, his subjects, looked to his strength to guide them through the betrayal of their prince. But this was the one thing he never knew he could never fight.

Let's end this.

But even here, he found another weakness. He just couldn't do it.

At the end of a broken bridge, there stood a broken man, who had a broken brother, who fought a broken fight. Stars like a fairy tale. Whispers in the night. Voices in his head. You'd be better off dead.

But...

_"Can you see her?"_

_"Yes. She searches for you."_

Maybe the gatekeeper could see into his head as well.

Jane. Just the thought of her ached. The only thing that could have stoped him from walking straight off the side of that bridge, that rainbow bridge that was his brother's memorial.

He was so tired. So tired of fighting. Was it so much to ask? Just a little rest.

Just like falling asleep, he had heard.

_I dont know why I cut myself, God, give me a sign or help_  
_I wont cry it'll be fine, I'll take my last breath_  
_Push it out my chest 'till theres nothing left_  
_I know that my minds near the end, God, I hurt myself and fell_  
_I wont cry it'll be fine, I'll take my last breath_  
_Push it out my chest 'till theres nothing left_

There's nothing left.

It was easy. Too easy. Almost an accedent. A razor blade. A bathing tub. A drop of red, marring the clear face of the water. He was just shaveing, in the begining, but he had forgotten to keep thinking again, and the little nick of the razor jerked him out of his apathy. He suddenly couldn't remember takeing his cloths off, or getting in the tub, or what he had been doing before that. He couldn't recall sunlight, or the taste of bread, or his mother's face.

And he was afraid.

Jane. He couldn't remember her face. _He couldn't remember her face._

He was losing himself inside of himself. He didn't want to forget again. He didn't want the fog to come back, and the bad thoughts, and the nothingness.

A cut was all it took?

Long, thin, pink lines that bled red into the pool. Pale, brutal slashes all up and down his wrists. Methodically, cut after cut after cut after...

The celing. When had he fallen down? His mother was there, her face scared. What was wrong? What was happening? Why was she so sad? Tears falling on his cheeks.

But strangly, he was...

Happy.

_I just wanna say good bye, dissappear with no one knowing._  
_I dont wanna live this lie, smiling to the world unknowing._  
_I dont want you to try, you've done enough to keep me going._  
_I'll be fine. I'll be fine. I'll be fine for the very last time._

_"For the last time, I'll be fine!" _Thor shouted.

They cared. He appreciated that. But he wished they didn't. It would be so much easier if they didn't care. If he could just leave without causing more pain...

An "accident", he called it. Nobody beleived him. Hardly anybody found out. He wore a layer of chain mail and forarm guards for a reason, now never takeing them off. Never revealing his moment of weakness. He wasn't sure if his mother ever told the Alfather, but if she did, he never mentioned it.

He had failed.

He had failed to find peace.

_"Thor," _His mother said._ "This has to stop."_

And then the news. That wonderfull, horrible news.

He walked into the throne room, and...

_"Loki's back."_

_I dont know why I cut myself, God, give me a sign or help._  
_I wont cry it'll be fine, I'll take my last breath_  
_Push it out my chest 'till theres nothing left._  
_I know that my minds near the end, God, I hurt myself and fell._  
_I wont cry it'll be fine, I'll take my last breath_  
_Push it out my chest 'till theres nothing left._

There's nothing left.

There's nothing left of my brother in this man before me. He walks stifly, angerly. The arrogance. The calculations. Even now he was thinking, sceaming, tricking.

I wish he had dided that day, so his cut would be clean. So this ghost before me would stop tricking me into thinking he was still here. This Loki, no...this stranger, was just a momory refusing to be forgotten. My brother _did_ die that day.

_"Did you mourn, Brother?"_

Yes. But...

Thor held out Mjolnir to his brother. An offering. For peace? For compliance? He knew not. Loki looked at him spitefully, considered making a break for it, but opted instead to grasp the hilt of Thor's hammer and be whisked away into Asguard, into the sky and the clouds and the sun.

_"Did you mourn, Brother?"_

Yes. He mourned. God knows he mourned. And he had lost hope. He _still_ had no hope.

But he would not give up. For loki, for that little boy that died that day in Asguard, he would not give up. For his mother and his father, his friends, new and old, and for himself.

He would never give up.

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**Angst. What are you gonna do?**

**Read and Review.**


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